


Your fingertips are laced with gold

by aphrodite_mine



Category: Demi Lovato (Musician), Pop Music RPF
Genre: F/F, Slight Power Play, sexual healing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-22
Updated: 2014-03-22
Packaged: 2018-01-16 14:04:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1350091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aphrodite_mine/pseuds/aphrodite_mine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Cher's disasterous-yet-exuberant first tour performance, Demi decides she needs a confidence boost.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Your fingertips are laced with gold

Cher's just managed to get out of the top layer of stage costuming and is reveling in the slow descent from the high of being on stage. It's her first night of the tour, and Cher'd like to think she's well past marveling over how she managed to get _here_ but she's really not. Tonight proved it. 

The distant music shifts into the rumble of bodies and shouts. Cher, again, feels incredibly small.

She doesn't answer the knock on the door, knowing that Demi will let herself in. This is her world, not that Demi would ever say so. She's radiant, now, leaning sweaty against the door frame of Cher's dressing room. "You're gonna get sick of me saying so, but you did a really incredible job." This is Demi's world. This carefully crafted universe of positivity and safety. Cher's not sure she'll ever want to leave.

"Couldn't have done it without you," Cher answers, grinning, avoiding the compliment, and letting her feet drop from the vanity to the floor. "You'll get sick of me saying so, I'm sure."

Demi swallows and steps forward. "Don't get up, m'kay?" She's careful to shut the door behind her, and just as careful to strip off her jacket and place it neatly on the vanity. She's _slick_ with sweat, Cher can see now. The realization makes her shift, tucking her feet under her chair. "You don't believe me, do you?" She's close, now; Cher arching her neck to watch her face. Demi shakes a hand through her hair, but doesn't take her eyes off Cher.

"You wouldn't lie," Cher says carefully, unable to keep from biting her lip. 

The thing is, Cher _knows_ this. Knows that, despite the sound fucking up and despite feeling like she was drowning in the giant stage, Demi really does think Cher did an incredible job. It makes her heart want to burst. 

"No," Demi says, inching forward until she's straddling Cher, one leg on each side of Cher's knees. "I wouldn't." She reaches up to pull a pin from Cher's hair. It doesn't budge, naturally, from the amount of product and they laugh. The sound is real. Cher _wants_ to believe in it. She touches Demi, one tentative hand on each faux-leather-encased thigh. Demi sits. "I'm not hurting you, am I?"

"I'd tell you if you were, believe me," Cher chirps, laughing again. There's a spark of courage mixed up in desire, and Cher's hands tighten, slide behind Demi to cup her ass and tug her closer. "Not that I'd mind a little bit 'a discomfort. Art has to suffer, right?"

Demi makes a sound, deep in her throat. She touches Cher's hair, her neck, the strap of her bra. She wriggles her fingers through hair spray and pomade to cup Cher's skull and kisses her, sweet and slow. She rolls her hips. 

Cher whimpers. "How're you even _real_?" she gasps out, flexing her fingers against the bare skin of Demi's lower back. 

"Same as you are." Demi tilts her head to better examine Cher. Her hair falls like a curtain. She rubs a thumb across Cher's lips. "We're made of the same stuff, aren't we?"

She's waiting for an answer, and Cher doesn't have one. Instead of replying, Cher's hands move to Demi's face and pull her close, as if for another kiss. She licks, broad and steady, along Demi's hairline, the buzzed hair sending prickles of sensation from Cher's tongue all through her. 

Demi jerks, then steadies herself. "Tickles," she breathes. "But don't stop."

"You'll suffer for art, too, then?" Cher asks, punctuating the question with toothy bites at the edges of Demi's new piercings. Before her brain can catch up with the sensation, Demi's hand is between them, stroking Cher through her panties. 

"We'll make each other better, okay?" 

"Okay, yes. Yes."

"Good."


End file.
